


A Seduction

by princessitsy



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: a little bit of seduction, a little bit of self-love, dirty as all hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessitsy/pseuds/princessitsy
Summary: Henry needs a little help getting comfortable in their new quarters.
Relationships: Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	A Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> A kind of combo of two lilacmermaid prompts “Their quarters in the White House don’t feel like home yet, and Henry is feeling too intimidated to be properly intimate with Elizabeth there. (Or vice versa). “ and “Having lived with her security detail standing outside the house for several years, Henry and Elizabeth thought that it would be easy to transition to living in the White House - but having them standing just outside their bedroom is another thing entirely.” 
> 
> I wanted to get this posted before the finale and I guess I just barely made it. 
> 
> Also, I have no idea how prominent/famous people order things online, pretty sure they can’t just go on Amazon and use their personal credit card and have it delivered to their doorstep. Or at least, the President definitely couldn’t. Thus the solution I come up with here. 
> 
> As usual, this spiraled wildly out of control and I pretty much hate it. There is really not enough White House smut and I’m doing my part to remedy that. This is filthy as sin and I make no apologies for that. 
> 
> If you want a visual for a certain part of this story: www(dot) laperla(dot) com/us/athena-bodysuit-cfiplm004711-nrb010(dot)html 
> 
> If you want another visual for an *ahem* certain item used, I also have that. Just search Mona 2.

She needs to seduce her husband, that’s all there is to it. It’s ridiculous that it has come to this, but in the seventy (as Mike had reminded her just that morning) days since her inauguration, they’ve only had sex twice and one of those times was directly after the inaugural balls when they were both more than a little tipsy and the other was so disappointing it barely counted. She sits at her desk, drumming her fingers on the wood, ostensibly she is supposed to be reading the economic report in front of her, instead she’s thinking up ways to convince her husband to have sex with her. Ridiculous. 

She has tried to talk to Henry about it, but he has brushed off her concerns, said he was busy or she was busy or he was tired. She has tried to initiate multiple times but the second it got past more than a pg-13 make out he suddenly remembered some report he had to write or a call he had to make. It has been more than a little bruising to her ego. She can’t figure out if she should be more concerned. She has felt his definite interest during their aborted attempts. He still seems attracted to her and he isn’t avoiding her in any other way, still eats as many meals as possible with her, kisses her good morning and good night, debates policy with her. He is being a generally good, loving husband. Minus the sex. When sex comes up, he becomes as nervous as the Catholic school boy he used to be. 

She is done with it. She doesn’t need sex to survive, but damn does she want it. Not only is it great stress relief, but it has always been an important part of her connection to Henry. She recognizes that she’s been testy with her staff lately and feeling distant from her husband. She purses her lips and flips through the papers in front of her as she tries to formulate a plan. Seducing Henry is usually easy, all she has to do is look at him in a certain way, but she has a feeling it might require a bit more work this time. Her thoughts run wild with possible scenarios until she is interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” she yells out with more than a hint of annoyance in her voice. 

Blake pokes his head in, “Sorry Ma’am, the Treasury Secretary will be here in ten and Mike demanded that I put these,” he holds up a stack of papers, “in your hands personally.”

Elizabeth does her best to hold back the growl she wants to let out in response to Mike’s micromanaging. This, this is exactly why she needs sex. If she doesn’t figure out what is going on with Henry soon, she’s going to snap at Blake, kill Mike, or end up in a war with the next country who crosses her path, perhaps all three. Blake makes a sound of discomfort and she realizes that he is still standing awkwardly half way through the door.

“Well come in and give me those papers personally, wouldn’t want to make Mike twitchy.”

Blake walks over and places them in her outstretched hands. She looks down at the top sheet. “Are these for the meeting in 10 minutes?”

Blake busies himself straightening out her desk, picking up an empty coffee cup and brushing crumbs from her morning Danish to the floor. “I believe so. He didn’t say. “

She huffs out a breath and flips through the sheaf, “These say I should take a completely opposite position than the one I have taken.” Blake hums noncommittally. “Am I the President or is Mike? Sometimes I get confused.”

He doesn’t react to her sarcasm, instead pushing onto other matters. “Dr. McCord asked if you were free for lunch, said he might have a line on some real food. Should I pencil it in? You’re free at one.”

She perks up, maybe she can resolve this...issue, today. “Do it.” 

Blake nods and turns to leave. “Blake…” He pauses and turns back. She hesitates, she really shouldn’t ask him to do what she wants to ask him to do, but she doesn’t have many options and she trusts Blake implicitly. “Just, I might need you to do something later...pick up something...under the radar.” 

He gives her an odd look. “Of course. Anything else?” 

She shakes her head no and he dutifully exits, closing the door behind him. She feels a little better now that she has a plan, or the makings of a plan. She will try talking to Henry one last time and if it doesn’t work she’s going for the big guns. Hopefully she won’t need to do anything extreme. 

A few hours later she is happily inhaling the dumplings that Henry’s assistant had smuggled in. She sighs and takes the last bite. She settles herself against the couch and smiles at Henry. “That hit the spot. Thank you.” 

He sets down the carton that was in his hands and grins at her. “I figure you deserved a treat after the week you’ve been having.” He leans over and pecks her on the cheek. “Do you need to get back?”

Her smile turns devious. Talking is overrated she thinks, she will just show Henry what she wants. “I can make some more time. You know what I would really rather have as a treat...” She trails off and rakes her gaze down his body, her intention obvious. When he doesn’t immediately object she stands up and adjusts herself back on top of him, her knees resting on either side of his thighs. 

She cups the back of his neck and brings their lips together. He keeps it light, his mouth barely brushing against hers before he pulls back. He meets her eyes and then repeats that move. She’s too keyed up for that kind of sweetness, so with his next pass she tightens her grip and presses her mouth down hard against his, her tongue plunging into his mouth. She swallows the groan he lets out and continues her assault, her hand shifting to tangle in his hair. She loses herself for a minute, he feels like heaven. His tongue strokes against hers as his hands grip her hips and pull her fully down into his lap. She feels his obvious arousal and this time he is the one breathing in her moan. Clearly she isn’t the only one ready to go, she grinds down on him and starts pawing at the buttons on his shirt. Her teeth scrape against his bottom lip before she pulls back panting. “I want you. Now.” His eyes have a tinge of wildness and he looks ready to oblige. Then there is a knock on the door and he almost throws her off his lap. She falls back, just barely catching herself in time to keep from tumbling to the floor, and glares at him as she stands up on shaky legs.

“What?” She calls out.

Blake’s muffled voice comes through the wood. “Reminding you of your 2:00 meeting with the NSC.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be down in a minute.” She maintains her eye contact with Henry, conveying her displeasure as best she can. When she is sure Blake has left, she speaks. “What,” she pauses deliberately, “was that?”

He looks away. “I was just startled. Sorry.”

“That was more than that, you almost threw me into the table, and not in the fun way.”

He stands up and busies himself cleaning up the containers. “You should probably go. Don’t want to be late for the meeting.”

“I can be late. I’m the damn President, it’s not like they can start without me.” He startles at her tone and looks up. She admits that perhaps that had come out with more harshness than she had intended. She softens her tone. “What going on Henry? It’s like you barely want to touch me anymore.” 

He looks offended. “Of course I want to touch you. I was just touching you.” He gathers all the containers and throws them in the trash. 

She crosses her arms. “Barely. We haven’t made it past second base in over a month.”

He sits back down on the couch and pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts tapping. “Bases? Are we back in high school?”

Her lips twist and she taps her foot. “It certainly feels like it. You’ve been jumpy and avoidant. Should I be worried? Is something going on?”

He stands up and puts his hands on her shoulders, his eyes conveying sincerity. “Absolutely not. I love you. I want you. We’ve just both been busy.”

“Henry,” she says warningly. 

He sighs. “Okay, so it’s just...there’s a lot...of people...and the secret ser...” 

He is interrupted by another knock on the door and she wants to curse, but instead just barks out a “What?”

Blake again. “You’re needed in the Situation Room Ma’am.” 

She growls in displeasure. “Coming,” she yells in response. She lowers her voice, almost whispering, “This conversation is not over Henry. I have needs, and if North Korea keeps acting up I’m really going to need more stress relief than dumplings can provide.” She gives him a quick kiss and then strides off to deal with the current crisis.

Later that night she is sitting in bed as her husband sleeps soundly beside her. They haven’t been able to finish their conversation yet, but she has a feeling she knows what his hang up is. It looks like it’s time to pull out the big guns. She opens up her personal tablet and taps a few buttons. She nods her head in success and sets the tablet aside. 

…………………

A few nights later, she is putting the finishing touches on her seduction plan, the lights are dim (she’s been told numerous times that candles are not allowed anywhere near the White House, so she’s done her best to create ambiance without them), a bottle of champagne is chilling, and she has told Blake in no uncertain terms that she is only to be interrupted for actual nuclear war. She arranges herself on the couch in the outer lounge and sends a silent prayer upwards that this will work and then another prayer apologizing for praying about sex. She had liaised (or rather Blake had) with Henry’s assistant and he should be walking through the door any minute. As if on queue, the door opens and he enters. At first he doesn’t notice her, focused on his phone, but then he looks up and takes her in. An indecently short black robe reveals almost the entirety of her lean thighs and the loose tie provides a tantalizing view of lace covered cleavage. Her hair is down and brushes her shoulders as she stands. She gives him a seductive smile. “Well hello there handsome, why don’t you come in and have a drink.”

He closes the door behind him and then gawps at her for a moment, entranced as she stands up and goes over to the champagne, the robe clinging to every curve. She pops the bottle open smoothly, only the smallest rivulet bubbling out. She pours two glasses as he finally finds his voice. “Is that, uh, is that new?” He gestures towards her ensemble.

She smiles and walks over, handing him a glass. “It is, as is what’s underneath it. Would you like to see?” Her voice is full of sin. 

He bobbles his drink before gulping down a mouthful. “Yes.” She smiles obligingly and starts to undo the tie with one hand but he stops her with a gentle hand over hers. “First, let’s sit and enjoy these drinks, and are those strawberries?

She nods and lets him guide her to the couch. “What brought this all on? And how did you possibly find a way to buy what I’m guessing is pretty scandalous lingerie?” 

She takes a sip of her drink to keep herself from giving a biting response to his first question. She sets the glass to the side. “It’s not that scandalous, it’s all one piece, one lacy piece.” She draws the last three words out, emphasizing them and smiles when his breath speeds up. 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he responds, his voice husky.

She shrugs. “Blake, the PO Box, and a little tradecraft.” 

He exchanges the drink in his hand for a strawberry from the tray on the table. He dips it in the cream to the side and laughs. “You are, as always, incorrigible, the Secret Service would not be pleased if they knew you were circumventing their mail screening.” 

She places a hand on his thigh as he takes a bite. She’s not interested in discussing the mechanics of this. “I doubt La Perla is going to send me a bomb, and it’s not as if they even know it’s me, you know I use the LLC credit card.” 

“Hmmm,” he replies, distracted by her fingers slowly working their way up his thigh. “So, uhhh, any special plans for that lingerie?”

“Oh you know, thought I’d sit around and read some policy briefs.” Her fingers walk across the growing bulge at the front of his trousers before continuing down his other thigh. “Maybe sign an executive order or two, nothing special.”

His breathing has increased and he is frozen in place still holding a half-eaten strawberry. She stops teasing him for a moment and grabs his hand and guides it towards her mouth. She takes the last bite of the fruit, her lips just grazing his fingertips. She swallows, still holding onto his fingers, before she brings them back to her mouth and sucks the last of the cream off of them. 

She lets him go and stands up in front of him. She gives him what she hopes is a cheeky smile. “So I guess I better get going on those evening plans.” She unties her robe and shrugs it off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor, leaving her in only a black lace bodysuit, which leaves very little to the imagination. “Guess I should call Mike up so I can get to work.”

He growls and wraps a hand around her waist, tugging her forward. Agreeably she straddles him, but balances on her knees so she isn’t putting any weight on him. “No one else gets to see you like this.” She flushes at the possessiveness in his voice. After almost three decades together she really shouldn’t allow a hint of jealousy to do it for her, but after how things have been lately, it gives her an extra boost of confidence. 

He runs his hands over her sides, causing goosebumps to spring up on her skin. “This is plenty scandalous, I might even call it sinful.” She lets out a quiet moan as he skims her breasts. She thinks she feels him freeze for a millisecond but then he cups them fully and runs his thumbs roughly over her nipples. The lace provides little barrier and she can’t help but close her eyes and groan as she pushes into his hands. She drops down fully into his lap and grinds against him, seeking friction as he continues to tease her. Over a month without much more stimulation than this and she is ready to explode. He captures her lips in a rough kiss, but just as she starts to lose herself in it he pulls back and starts trailing his lips down her neck. He nips a little at the spot near her collarbone that always makes her weak. She should probably warn him against leaving marks, but honestly, she’ll take all the media flak in the world about wearing turtlenecks if he will make her feel like this.

He continues his journey down, meeting his fingers and then taking over for them, sucking a nipple into his mouth. The scratch of the lace combined with the heat of his mouth is sending her spiraling. She is panting, her head spinning, but she needs to see him, so she pries her eyes open and looks down. He looks up and holds her gaze for a moment before resuming his task. He scrapes his teeth across the tip and she can’t help but let out a loud “Fuck. More.” This time he definitely freezes and then pulls back. 

He sits stiffly, holding his hands awkwardly away from her. His face is unreadable.“You know I think I do have some work I need to do and weren’t you saying you wanted to call Congresswoman Noyes tonight?” 

She shakes her head, desperately trying to reorient herself. “What?” Her voice is still clouded with lust.  
He puts his hands on her waist and shifts her to sit on the couch beside him. 

He doesn’t meet her eyes. “I’m just saying we should get our work done before we get too tired.”

Her head is starting to clear and she’s exasperated. “Really? That’s what we’re going with? I’m sitting on your lap in six-hundred dollar lingerie and you want us to get our work done?”

He stands up and goes over to the table where he left his phone earlier. “You’re not sitting on my lap right now and we do have work to do, sex can wait.”

She huffs out a breath. He really is very lucky she loves him. He exasperation is starting to morph into anger. “Sex absolutely cannot wait. Everything else can. I want you. Here and now preferably or we need to find some place you’re comfortable since clearly something about the White House is making you twitchy, or at least I hope it’s the location and not me.”

“It’s not you,” he says but he isn’t looking at her so she only mostly believes him. 

“So we should go somewhere else? The whole world is at our disposal, where would you like to go?” She feels a hint of desperation creeping into her tone. This has become about more than just sex. 

“It’s not, that’s not…” He stumbles over his words. “I don’t want to go anywhere else. But it’s not you, I promise it’s not you.” He looks up at her finally, but his face is still inscrutable. 

Normally she has a healthy amount of confidence, but right now she is starting to feel a little exposed sitting here mostly naked, so she walks over to where she abandoned her robe earlier. She picks it up and wraps herself in whatever protection the thin fabric can provide. She thought she knew what was going on with Henry, thought he was freaked out by being in a new place, a place that was more like a combo office building and museum than a home, but now she can’t help but doubt herself. After their earlier conversation she felt better and then once again she tried to seduce him and once again she was rejected, actions speak louder than words. “Real convincing Henry. I’m going to go change and do that work you’re so insistent we need to do. Don’t wait up.” She walks into the bedroom.

………………

Henry stands there staring after her. He has messed up, he has really messed this up. He fumes, why can he not figure out how to talk to her about this. He throws his phone down and goes to follow her, but pauses. He doesn’t know what to say, how to convince her that he is still attracted to her, that he’s woken up every morning this week steel hard from hazy dreams about her. But then he thinks about doing something about it, about throwing her down on the bed and making her scream and he freezes. He starts thinking about every other person from his history textbooks who has had sex in this very room. His mind drifts to the Secret Service agents standing not ten feet from their bedroom door. And then he can’t go through with it, he can’t turn his mind off long enough to show his wife how much he loves her, how much he desires her. His brain has always been his both his greatest asset and his greatest liability. 

He shakes himself. This cannot go on. Elizabeth cannot be going through life thinking that he has somehow lost interest in her. He walks to the bedroom doorway. She hasn’t changed, she is sitting on the edge of the bed staring into space. Her robe is open and the hints of skin he can see through the lace are enough to leave him breathless. When she had first dropped her robe and revealed the bodysuit all of the blood in his body had immediately gone south. Looking at her now, he is once again struck by how gorgeous she is, he is so lucky to have this woman to love. 

He walks over and stands in front of her. She shifts her gaze to the floor. He has screwed this up worse than he thought. He takes her hands in his, but she doesn’t respond, her hands remaining loose in his grip. “Elizabeth,” he says softly. “Elizabeth, I screwed this up. I don’t want you to think I don’t want you. That you’re doing something wrong.” She sighs, clearly not placated. “Fuck, do you know what I thought when I saw you in this,” he lets go of her hands and gestures towards her clothing, “I could barely restrain myself from throwing you down on the couch and worshiping every inch of your beautiful body.”

She finally looks up and he sees the unasked question in her eyes. Now he’s the one letting out a deep sigh. “I’m embarrassed and I’m embarrassed that I’m embarrassed.” She tilts her head and scrunches up her face in curiosity. “I think you’ve mostly already figured it out, but I’m having trouble getting past the armed men standing right outside our bedroom door. The armed men who can probably hear every single thing that happens behind these walls. I want to make you scream. I’ve woken up every morning for the past three weeks so hard it hurts. I’ve dreamed about nothing but you, in all sorts of carnal scenarios. But then my brain starts running and I wilt, quite literally.” 

She cracks a smile. “I’d like to hear about some of these carnal scenarios. Maybe they can give me some ideas for my next seduction.” Her face goes back to serious. “I could ask the Secret Service to step back, maybe stand down the stairs? Oh, and for the record, men and women with guns, not just men.” 

He rolls her eyes at her correction. “You really can’t, first, I don’t think you have that power. Second, I want them as close as possible, hell, maybe they should be the ones sharing a bed with you. I made a mistake of reading one of the threat reports, and they made me want to wrap you in Kevlar from head to toe and lock you in a bomb proof bunker.” 

She twists her lips. “Mike told me I was never allowed to see the threats and somehow he ran interference with Secret Service so they wouldn’t even give them to me when I bypassed him. How did you get a hold of them? What do they say?”

He holds up his hands and gestures with them, emphasizing his point. “It doesn’t matter and let’s just say there is a vocal minority who really hates having a female President. But we’re getting off topic.” 

She chuckles and he sees that her whole body has loosened, maybe she is finally starting to believe him. “Oh yes, back to sex. Talking about people who want to kill me is a definite mood killer. You were telling me how you want to have sex, but you’re embarrassed because then everybody will know we had sex? Which is confusing because we have had sex many many times where people could possibly hear us, the back of a limo, your parent’s house, hotel rooms, those two memorable times in my office at State, a tent, various classrooms and offices at UVA...”

“Okay, okay,” he shouts, interrupting her. “You don’t have to name every place we have ever had sex.”

She grins, a devious glint in her eyes. “But I was just getting started, I haven’t even mentioned the people who have walked in on us and/or seen us in compromising positions.” 

He puts a hand over his eyes. “You make us sound like sexual deviants.”

“No, we just happen to really, really enjoy each other.” He moves his hand to look at her again. “But that’s what makes this all the more confusing.”

He runs his hands through his hair. “I know, but I think it’s just that everything is so much more now, you are the center of power for the whole country, what you eat for breakfast is public record, we live in a glorified museum, I don’t want the whole world to know how loudly you scream when you come. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but these walls are paper thin.”

“You think one of the Secret Service agents is going to leak that I’m some kind of kinky sex freak?” She squints at him. “I’m pretty sure there were already like five stories about that during the campaign. Remember the guy who swore I was a regular at some kind of BDSM club? Ridiculous.”

He steps back and starts pacing. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I know I’m not making sense. I’m trying to get past it.”

She watches him thoughtfully. “What if you didn’t make me scream?” He pauses and gives her an incredulous look. Elizabeth, control her volume? She’s never been very good at that, not once she really gets going. He’s always been happy their children have had bedrooms on different floors than theirs. She goes on, “What if I made myself scream and you just watched? What if it was something that was going to happen regardless of whether you were here or not?”

She can’t be suggesting what he thinks she’s suggesting. How is that even going to help? She stands up and stalks over to him. She pushes him backwards, causing him to stumble a few steps and he stares at her incredulously. “Sit in that chair,” she points at the chair in the corner, “and don’t move.” He gapes at her until she shoves again, harder this time. He falls down into the chair and she stands over him. She leans down and runs her hands over his thighs, her nails scratching through the fabric of his pants. “Now you just stay here.” He feels himself getting aroused at the lust in her voice. She flips for a second, sincerity flooding her voice, “Are you okay with this?” He can do nothing but nod his head in agreement. 

She walks away and disappears for a moment into the closet. She reemerges with an unassuming brown box in her hands. His eyes widen in shock. “Where in the hell did that come from?” They had very distinctly decided to not bring that into the White House. 

A smile spreads slowly across her face. “The closet.” He imagines that Blake also had something to do with this. He hopes to god her poor assistant didn’t know what was in it. She sets it down on the floor next to the bed. “You get to watch. No touching.” With one fluid move she shrugs the robe off her body and she is once again left in only that inviting bodysuit. 

She trails her hands up and down her sides, brushing the sides of her breasts. He is entranced. “I bought this with you in mind, I know how much you like me in lace.”

“I’m a fan.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but he knows he’s failing. 

She rewards him by cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples. “I’ve missed your mouth on me, when you used it earlier I thought I could come from that alone.”

He refrains from reminding her of the times she has come from only that. He doesn’t want to risk stopping the erotic vision in front of him. She continues for a minute, her eyes locked on his, her mouth open breathing heavily.

She starts moving one hand slowly down her chest. “I’ve been so on edge lately. I haven’t even gotten myself off much because it wasn’t satisfying. I wanted you so badly.” He’s torn between arousal at the thought of her touching herself and the need to apologize again for not giving her what she had needed.

Her hand has reached its destination and rests on top of her sex. He imagines the heat radiating from that spot, he wishes it was his hand instead. He watches as she dips a finger underneath the cloth. She moans, and if he’s not wrong it’s purposefully loud. “I’m already wet. Just planning this revved me up and now I’m soaked. Want to see?” He nods mutely and she pulls her finger out and holds it up, he can just see the glistening evidence of her arousal. He starts to stand up, he needs to taste her.

“Stop!” She barks out, her finger pointing at him. “You stay there. That’s the deal.” He wants to argue but settles back into the cushion. 

She relaxes and reaches back between her legs. There’s a quick movement and she must have undone the snaps at the crotch because he sees a small bit of fabric hanging down. And then she is pushing what looks to be two fingers inside herself, thrusting them shallowly. He starts panting. She bends her knees, attempting to get more depth. She is letting out little sounds of pleasure and he is hard as a rock. He thinks about touching himself, but somehow he feels that will break the mood. “Your fingers are so much better, can go so much deeper.” 

“I could come over there and use them, help you out.” He means for it to sound off the cuff, as if he doesn’t care one way or the other. She knows him better than that though.

“I’m sure you could, but that’s not how this game is played. And I have just the ticket to help me out.” He’s not sure he agreed to a game, but if he did, he’s in it to win it.

She shimmies out of the bodysuit with more grace than he would have imagined and leaves it puddled on the floor. He loves her in just about anything she wears, but naked, naked is what he truly likes best. She bends down and opens the box. He holds his breath and wonders what she will pull out. He sees a glimpse of purple and the telltale logo on a bottle of lube before she tosses two things on the bed. She narrows her eyes at him as she begins to idly pluck at her nipples. “I’m going to lay on this bed and fuck myself until I’m screaming and you are not going to move an inch.” The authority in her voice sends fire rushing through his veins. 

She must take his silence for agreement because she climbs up onto the bed facing him. She is sitting propped up on her elbows, knees up with her legs spread so he has a perfect view. Closely cropped hair frames her aroused sex. She wasn’t wrong about being soaked, he can see it from here. His dick pulses and his mouth tingles at the memories of all the times he has been between her legs. He can almost taste it, the way her musky flavor spreads across his tongue. As if she can read his mind she swipes two fingers across the wetness and brings them to her mouth. Her tongue laps at them before she sucks them clean. He groans and she smiles. 

She picks up the toy she had thrown to the side “So do you think I should use this?” It’s one of her favorite vibrators, pleasurable both internally and externally. 

“Yes.” His voice is hoarse. He puts his thumb in his mouth and bites down, desperate to see what she will do next.

She spreads a fair amount of lubrication on the toy, though he can’t see that she needs it, and then brings it down and rubs it between her lips. “That feels nice, I think I’ll tease myself a bit first.” She rubs the tip over her clit and then he hears the faint sound of vibrations. “Oh,” she breathes out, “that’s more than nice.” She moves it slightly, massaging her clit in a circle. “Fuck, so good.” Her voice is now loud enough that at this point he’d be pulling back but he’s too entranced by the sight in front of him and he doesn’t have a choice either way. 

She must be feeling as impatient as he is, because she moves the toy down and starts to push it in. She is groaning at every centimeter of depth. When it is fully seated she falls back onto the bed and the sound she lets out is close to a scream. “I’ve missed this, missed your cock, but this will do for now.” He isn’t sure how she is maintaining the composure to talk, he certainly isn’t capable right now. Her dirty talk has always made his brain turn to mush, partially because it’s so different from how she normally conducts herself. The contrast between public Elizabeth and uninhibited sexual Elizabeth will never cease to amaze and arouse him. 

She pulls the vibrator partially out and then thrusts it back in. She continues this pattern, slowly increasing in speed. She moans every time it hits home. He knows that this particular one scrapes across her g-spot just right and when she gets going fast enough it doesn’t take much more for her to explode. “Fuck. Henry. Close.” Her words are barely intelligible, panted out as they are. He has to touch himself just a little, he reaches his hand down and squeezes his erection, hoping to hold off. He hopes he gets the chance to be inside her and he doesn’t want to under perform. 

She stops thrusting for a minute, holding the toy halfway in. He thinks he sees her pushing the buttons and he imagines she has turned it up to its highest setting. When she’s close, she wants maximum stimulation. She uses one hand to spread her outer lips and uses a finger from the other to circle her clit. It’s an obscene picture, more arousing than any pornography he’s ever seen. Her hips are hovering above the bed, pushing up seeking more stimulation. With a quick move she starts slamming the vibrator in and out, just the way he’d be taking her if he were over there, hard and fast. She continues stimulating her clit, and then she is letting out a long, loud hoarse scream. 

He doesn’t think he has a working brain cell left as he watches her fall apart. She gives herself another couple of gentle thrusts and then her hips fall back to the bed and she stills. He can’t take it anymore, he sprints across the room and onto the bed. At the first touch of his hand on her thighs, she startles and starts to sit up, but then he pulls a leg over his shoulder, bats her hands away, and licks a broad stripe across her sex. She falls back with a gasp. 

He takes over with the toy, pushing it in and pulling it out roughly while his tongue focuses on her clit. She is still pulsing with the aftereffects of her last orgasm and he needs to feel it. He rips the toy out of her, earning him a surprised shout but he quickly replaces it with three fingers. Her walls are warm and wet around him and he can’t wait until he is buried balls deep inside her. 

He moves his tongue down and licks around his fingers, he will never get tired of this taste. He moves back up and sucks and licks until she is screaming his name. He doesn’t even pause, thoughts of thin walls and men with guns completely forgotten.

“Henry. Oh god. More. Please.” He moans, her pleas arousing him even further.

He licks at her harder, his fingers relentless and then she lets out a loud wail.

He brings her down gently with little laps until she calms. Then he moves himself up until he is hovering over her. When her eyes flutter open, he lean down and kisses her softly, she licks at his mouth, no doubt enjoying the taste of herself. She has told him many times that it turns her on when he tastes like her. 

A faint buzzing sound penetrates his brain and he pulls back laughing. He blindly reaches to the side and searches for the offending toy. He finally finds it and switches it off. 

Elizabeth is looking at him with apprehension and he hates that he’s done that to her. “Well that was certainly a show,” he jokes. She shifts under him nervously. “I think it’s safe to say that if anyone was in the hallway they heard you.” 

“Yeaaaaah,” she says, drawing it out as her eyes dark back and forth. “Weren’t you supposed to stay over there?”

“I don’t follow directions well. And I think we should go big or go home on the show front.” She doesn’t seem to understand but he’d rather show her so he swoops back down to her mouth while dropping his hips and grinding against her. Her legs wrap around him, holding him close. 

She pulls back with a gasp. “Please tell me that means you’re getting naked.” He smiles and stands back up, shedding his clothes as quickly as possible as she watches him with hungry eyes. When he is finally back on top of her they both let out sighs of contentment at the feeling of skin on skin. She undulates her body, rubbing against him like a cat. “Missed this so much.” 

She reaches a hand down and wraps it around his erection. He groans as she pumps him. “Do I get to use my mouth on you now? I’ve missed that too.” His wife has an unholy obsession with using her mouth on him, but he can’t blame her, he feels the same about his mouth on her. 

He covers her hand with his, stopping her. “No, I’m too close, have to be inside you.”

She grins, her voice absolutely filthy as she promises, “Later then. I’m going to suck you until you come in my mouth.” He groans and pushes against her, when his cock grazes her wetness he just about loses it. 

“You can’t say things like that Elizabeth or this is all going to be over too soon.” 

She is unrepentant and pulls him down for another kiss. He needs to be in her, now. He yanks her hips up and uses a hand to guide himself into her wetness. He hovers at her entrance, torturing them both until she thrusts up and he seats himself fully.

The both pause their kisses, panting heavily into each others mouths. “Tell me how you want it babe,” he whispers.

“Hard. Deep. It’s been too long.”

He doesn’t respond verbally, instead starting up exactly the rhythm she asked for, fucking her in long, rough strokes. 

“Henry!” She screams. He hopes that means she is close. “Don’t stop. God please don’t stop. Faster.”

Their pace is devolving. She squeezes her internal muscles around him every time he enters. “Fuck, Liz, I’m gonna…” 

She moans, “Me too, just need a...” She doesn’t complete that sentence before he is snaking a hand between them and stimulating her clit. Then she is pulsing around him in a flood of wetness. He lasts two more thrusts and then he is coming too, screaming her name, his blood pounding in his veins as the frissons of need release. 

He falls on top of her and she wraps all of her limbs around him as they both come back down.

Eventually he extricates himself from her embrace and flops down next to her. “That was excellent. God, you felt good. I missed that.” 

“Mmmhmmm,” she hums in agreement. “Cold now, blankets please.”

The rearrange themselves so they are laying the right way and underneath the comforter. She snuggles into his bare chest and he gently runs his fingers through her hair. He loves her like this. He loves her when she’s sassy and confident and torturing him six ways from Sunday, but snuggly Elizabeth has a special place in his heart. She lets out a sound of contentment. “I love you Elizabeth, I’m sorry I made you doubt that I will always want you.”

She pushes harder into him, “We’ll work on it, I love you so much.” 

He looks down at her with adoration and promises himself he will do better.


End file.
